Fireworks Indeed

Sort of fitting that this weekend has been full of fireworks, since it is the holiday weekend and all. Not just fireworks-fireworks, but fireworks of the emotional kind as well.

It would appear we have yet again plateaued with Spenser's medicine dosages. One or both need to be upped, like tomorrow. Problem is, is that it will be very difficult to get a hold of his doc to get the go ahead. It will become a huge issue, if I cannot get a hold of her soon. Like tomorrow.

He is raging at the slightest provocation. It is maddening. I feel as though I am somehow failing him, and this is punishment for being a shitty parent. Which I fully think I am.

He has pushed me to my limit everyday for the past 5 days.

Actually, beyond my limit. I am wiped out emotionally. Have no clue as to how much more I can conceivably take before I myself have to be carted away to the nut hut.

He is a smart boy. Smart enough to know all of my triggers. Every button that can be pushed, until I am quivering mess of raw emotion. It is like psychological warfare. It is brutal.

He told me the other day he hated me.
I told him that I loved him.

He said he didn't care, he still hated me, and would always hate me. He would rather go live with his aunt Rose.

I almost called her to have her come get him.

He also told me he hated me because I brought him into the world, and he wished he was never born. It breaks my heart to hear that.

What do you say to that?

There are only so many phrases to combat that.

Only so many times a mother can hear how horrible she is.

How much she is hated.

How she can do nothing right, before it finally becomes true.

I know my child hates me. I doubt he loves me.

I know he wishes I were not here, or gone, or some how not a part of his life, because I can't make him better, I just seem to make him worse.

I know he doesn't like me.

It literally has killed the mother in me. I no longer feel the maternal feelings that I once did, the warm fuzzy ones are gone. I love him, but I am painfully aware of how horrible a mother I am, and so I feel inept.

I literally dread my days alone with him.

I dread waking in the morning, and having to do it all over again.

I dread having to try to reason with the monster he becomes, because it turns me into a monster too.

I dread everything having to do with being his mother, and yet, I am his mother.

I can't run away, or really give up on him, because to do that would be to truly fail my child, and I will not do that.

After all, I do love him, beyond anything I can even fathom, even after I hear how much I am hated, I love him. I hurt for him, because of him. I may not be the mother he needs, but I am the mother he has, and for whatever it is worth, I do try to make his life good. I may not like the little monster he turns into when he rages, but that doesn't mean I don't love him.

In the middle of one of his multiple rages on Sunday, I had the worst gut wrenching feeling ever. I was sitting in the room with him arguing with him, because I myself am too stupid to shut up, and I suddenly got the feeling that his life is going to somehow be incomplete.

Like I couldn't picture him as an adult.

I honestly do not know if my child will grow up. Right now if I had to predict, I would say he isn't going to make it to adulthood. It is an awful feeling. Awful.

Like I said, I am bankrupt emotionally.

This is not how my life was supposed to be.

I hurt.